Ultimate Green Arrow 1 to 6: Green
by steave
Summary: Green Arrow like you've never seen him before! Betrayal, death, and family are key points in this amazing story! Watch Oliver Queen transform into the Green Arrow, and see all of the tragedy along the way!
1. Issue 1

"Green"

Part 1 of 6

by Steave

Green.

This was the color of my mother's eyes. I loved my mother very much, and I always will. She was a very beautiful woman. She had the prettiest green eyes, like little stars gleaming in the night's sky, even through the grime which covered her body day in and day out. I remember her very clearly, as well as the day I was born . . .

I was born on the streets. This is no exaggeration, my mother gave birth to me in the middle of an alley. The alley in itself was nicknamed the "Alley of Life." The alleyway was full of trash beyond no compare. Blood was stained on the concrete from past births in this alley. Those mothers that weren't so fortunate to live through the event, were cast into the river which flowed in Greenland Park, across the street from the alley.

"Push baby, you have to push," my father told my mother. "I won't let you die on me, not now, not ever." My father was good at comforting everyone. I had heard stories that he was a very brave fighter, and that he even took out an entire family of thugs just trying to protect his future wife and family. Oh how things change . . .

My mother started to scream so loudly it echoed off of the walls in the alley and into the night air. After hours of kicking and screaming, she gave birth to me. "What is it Tom, is it a boy or girl?"

"It's a boy. What do you want to name him baby?" My mother looked forward, towards the park. She noticed a beautiful tree there, the leaves on it were a kind of olive green.

"Oliver, his name is Oliver." My father, did nothing but look at her and smile. He held me gently and gingerly. Like I was a precious gem that, if dropped, would shatter on impact.

"Kam, I would never leave our family for anything. Even if it was money to get out of here. I will stay here and endure the long hardships with you as long as there is a breath still in my body." My mother kissed my father on his lips. Not a deep, passionate kiss, but a small gentle peck. This was the beginning of my life, and I'm going to tell you, it wasn't easy.

My mother, was a very beautiful woman. I know, it is hard to imagine a beautiful looking homeless person, but this is the truth. She had long, flowing, almost endless blonde hair. This would explain the reason for my blonde hair. She had the most precious green eyes you've ever seen, as I have mentioned before. It was almost as if you could drown in the beauty of her eyes. My mother had a very loving smile as well. Her teeth looked like pearls, well, thanks to the help of a toothbrush and some paste we were able to steal quite often.

My father, was very gentle. He wasn't very built, nor an overly strong man. He was strong enough to survive in the harsh environment that we had been cast into, but that was it. My father always held me with extreme care, like he was going to lose me whenever I was put into his arms. He had very loving blue eyes. Which, I am grateful for having as a trait of mine as well. He stayed clean shaven, thanks to a stolen shaver. Do you see a pattern yet?

They raised me on the streets of Star City. Green, was the color of this city. Money ruled over anything else. If you had money, you lived on the East side of Star. However, like my family, if you had no money to even speak of, you were on the West side of Star.

As I was being raised, I learned one thing . . . you fight, or you die. You fought for your survival every day of the week. If you didn't fight, you would die. If you died, well, the homeless would reap the rewards from your corpse.

There was one day where my family were eating a rather scrumptious rat sandwich, the rat which my father killed with knife and the pieces of bread which we stole from someone's dumpster. Rotten as the bread was, however, it still tasted quite delicious. I was seven at the time, my mother and father in their thirties.

At this stage in my life, my hair had grown down to my shoulders. I was rather big for my size, my muscles had developed well, due to some labor as a child. Even at the age of 7, I was bigger than most kids I saw, including the ones that were older than me. My father said that I had a "chiseled" body. At the time, I didn't know what that meant, now, I know very well.

It was a beautiful night. I could only imagine what it was like on the other side of Star. I always dreamed of it being like an enchanted land you only heard about in fairy tales. My father had mentioned something about a "school." This facility was used to teach kids how to read and write and do other things. In West Star, you taught yourself everything you knew, or were taught by your kinsmen. I wished I could be in East Star. But, at the moment, I had to settle with my trashy hell.

This section of West, was just like the rest, riddled with corpses of those who didn't fight, or died trying. Also littered with trash every half a block. This was not the ideal place for a vacation. I mean I had seen most of West and it was just about as horrible as it could come, but this section almost seemed worse. The lights had been broken by rocks, it seemed like an infinite, impenetrable darkness. Trash fires were what lit up this section of West. All showing the homeless which crowded around them, some pushing and shoving for the warmth, others . . . killing for it.

A man, no older than my father at the time, who had the regular looks of a homeless bastard like the rest of us came into the light. His grey shirt torn, you could see the scars which cut through his shirt and into his body. The scars were of various lengths and sizes, all of which I'm sure brought about a different memory. He had steel blue eyes and his hair seemed to have thinned out a little bit, if not pulled out. He had a very grave and gruff face, his beard came down to the middle of his neck.

His voice sounded like glass breaking, "What were ya doin' eatin' outta my dumpster," the cold and grave man asked. "Some of my boys been tellin' me that you and yer family been lootin' it."

My father, being the calm and gentle fellow that we all knew he was, looked straight into the man's eyes. He switched his glance, briefly, to look at me. An all too familiar sign my father and I had developed together. As he slowly started to get up, I slowly and gently pulled his knife out of his boot. I was even surprised with how fast and yet stealthily I was able to pull it out.

"Yes that is right," my father said with absolute gentleness and kindness. That is the one thing that amazes me, even to this day, his ability to remain calm and gentle, no matter how bad the situation was.

"Well, mister goody goody, how 'bout ya give those delicious lookin' buns over to me." I found this next sentence rather odd, as I noticed that he wasn't looking at any of our sandwiches when he said this. "I say it's a fair trade for stealin' outta my dumpster, wouldn't ya say?"

I looked up at my father, and what happened next, will surprise me until the end of my days. My father walked up to the ruffed up man, got within an inch of his face, and looked him straight in his eyes. "If you ever, threaten to take any of my family away from me again, you're going to have more than a scar to add to your collection."

With this my father turned his back on the poor bastard. The man eyed him carefully as he walked over to us, and my father looked at me, smiled, and gave a nod. With that gesture, I already knew what was coming next.

"You rotten little punk. No one talks to Scar McGraw like that. Ever! You hear me boy!" He started to hurry to my father, flipping out a switchblade as he drew nearer to us. He lunged forward at my father . . . he was one second too late.

My father and I know how to fight, it's not like we never had before. I knew the basis of the plan before he even came at my father. My father fell down right before McGraw could gut him with the switchblade. He took out a patch of father's hair, but that was the last thing that he would ever take out again. I threw my father's knife right at my father's head, well, where it was positioned, knowing that another, more ungentle face would be there. The blade spun and caught McGraw in his right temple.

The blood squirted out of his temple upon impact, spraying my father and I with it. McGraw fell down onto his left side, right next to my mother's lap. His blood already staining the concrete which my family sat on.

My father looked around and saw a homeless congregation heading our way, all with the same crazed look in their eyes for some meat. "Let's go, we don't need to see this," my father said to me and my mother. We followed him without question, however, as my father picked me up, I could see the men and women going to work on McGraw. I don't have the heart to tell you what I saw that day, nor the willingness.

All I could think about for the next eight years was that last image that was now engraved into my brain. The homeless, that had suddenly turned into animals, wanting the flesh and insides of that man still haunts me. I would not wish that sight on anyone else.

My father and mother continued to age. My mother, aged quite beautifully and was ever as beautiful as the day I was born. Something had changed about her, and I wasn't quite sure what it was yet. I had also noticed that we were getting more and more things, how we did, I wasn't quite sure. However, I was thankful for anything and everything that I had received.

In these eight years, I continued to get stronger, my muscles continued to grow and develop. My blonde hair, now a little in check due to the help of some scissors, was still shoulder length. I didn't have any facial hair to speak of, I stayed clean shaven, you can guess how we were able to manage that.

I continued to practice with throwing knives. I set up a practice area in a place we designated as our "home," which consisted of an alleyway, and a trash bin for the fire. I had found a few brown paper bags and filled them up with various rocks and other miscellaneous things that I could find. I set them atop box crates I had found lying around and stood at various lengths and angles perfecting my aim. I had eventually come quite accustom to it and wanted to try something else that would push my aiming skills even further.

Recently, my mother had grown somewhat ill. Father took care of her all the time and was always wondering if there was anything he could do to help. I too, wondered and asked if I could do anything. But my mother just shook her head and said, "The fact that both of you are here for me is good enough."

We were sitting around the trash fire on the territory of our "home" one night, and I looked on the side of a building next to our territory and there I saw a poster from long ago, before Star City was split into two. It read, "MARK'S BOWS! THE MOST EXPERTLY MADE IN ALL OF STAR CITY! GOT GOOD AIM? THEN MARK'S IS THE PLACE!" The sign said this in big bulging red letters that looked like they were going to come alive and jump out of the piece of paper which contained them. I didn't quite understand what the second word on the poster meant, but at the time, I didn't really care.

I went up to the poster and stared at what I saw underneath the bulging red letters. It was a picture of a piece of wood, however, it wasn't an ordinary piece of wood. It was bent into an arch and looked incredibly smooth. The two ends of the wood were tied together by a piece of string.

The piece of wood in itself was amazingly gorgeous. There were different carvings and engravings in the wood that made it look like something you could only dream of. One of the things that attracted me to it so dearly was the shade of green that reminded me of the beauty of my mother's eyes.

I tore the poser off of the wall which it was attached to and stared deeply into the greatness of the piece of wood which I found myself so fascinated with.

"What do you have there?" It was my father, he said as he approached me with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"It's the one of the most beautiful things that I've ever seen dad. The carvings that were put into this are just fascinating." I sounded as if I was obsessed with this piece of wood. I felt that I should just be able to rip the wood out of the picture and have it right there in my hands.

"That is called a bow Ollie, it is a weapon, but can also be used to hunt for food. If we could find one, I would be more than happy to give it to you son," my father said with deep sincerity. My father looked at me and gave me a very loving look. I knew that my father loved me, and that he always would. He gave the poster another glance and looked back at me, "I think I know the thing for you, I saw it once, and passed it by, but we'll see if it's still there. C'mon son, lets go hunting."

My father had now piqued my curiosity. He lead me and my mother through some alleyways and side streets which eventually lead into a park. Greenland Park, the place where I was born. Father lead me through the park, past the homeless, which all gave us a nervous glance. There wasn't much love in this place, nor in any place in West Star. Once we got out of the park, he lead me to a building, the sign posted above the building read, in big bulging red letters, "MARK'S BOWS!"

I ran into the store without hesitation, like a child seeing the presents under the tree on Christmas morning and can't wait for his parents to wake up to open them. I wish that I could describe to you in words of the joy and excitement coursing through my very being, but, if I did, it would take hours. And unfortunately, I don't have hours.

The inside of this building, though it was dusty with a little bit of grime, was like a museum. All of these different beautiful bows that were in one of two places, strewn about on the floor, or placed on racks and mantles for display on the walls. None of these, however, were the bow I was seeking, nor were they near as beautiful.

My father and I searched for what seemed like hours through the endless supply of bows, and what my father had called arrows. "I'm not quite sure that it's here anymore Ollie. I'm sorry son." My father came to me and put his soft hand on my naked shoulder. His hands were still warm, they reminded me of the trash fires that warmed me when I was little, and had still warmed until that day. "Maybe we will find it, or another one like it someday."

"One second dad, I thought I saw some clothes in here, I'm going to go check it out."

"Alright Ollie."

I went to the back of the store where I saw the clothes, I thought that I would get some for my mother. Her with her sickness, which only seems to be getting worse, she needs clothes more than anyone else. On a clothes rack in the back, hung a black leather trench coat. It looked rather comfortable and warm, something that my mother would really like.

I placed my hand on the right shoulder of the coat and took it off of the rack. I wrapped my hand around the other shoulder and removed it from the rack, taking my hand off of the right shoulder. I noticed my handprint on the right shoulder of the coat, the coat was completely covered in dust. The leather smell that I imagined it once had was long gone by now. It had been replaced by the same musty smell that enveloped the entire store.

I took it off of the coat hanger, which it had been sitting on for a very long time, sorry to state the obvious. I started to fling the coat around like a madman, trying to get the dust off of the coat. It worked, which I am glad to say, however, you would've thought that I had just gotten into a fight with the dust under a bed, and I lost.

"Ollie! We need some help!" The voice belonged to my father, however, it was a shrill cry out for help instead of his normal gentle and calm voice. I ran outside with the trench coat in hand. What I saw there, horrified me, which wasn't very easy to do. This is the moment, where my life, and everything I ever knew about it, would change, forever.

My mother was standing on her own two feet for the first time in a month, but it wasn't of her own will. I could see a man holding her by her hair, her feet slightly dragging on the pavement. I looked closer and noticed something sharp pointed at her throat. A trickle of blood was streaming down her neck and down her tattered shirt. The deathly pale color of her face remained, and all I felt was anger and hatred.

The man holding her close to his own body was a big, broad shouldered man. He had long, dirty brown hair which came to his shoulders. He had a very animalistic and scary look in his eye. I say eye for he had a scar down his left one. All there was in that eye was white and grey. It sadly reminded me of death. This was like looking death in the face, and for once in my life, I was scared. As for the rest of his face, he was clean shaven, but that still didn't help with the cold unpleasantness of his face.

The men and women which were behind him, all were various shapes and sizes, like the knives that I had used in my life. All of them with blank stares on their faces, the moment almost seemed surreal. Like a bad nightmare that you wanted to wake up from, but then you realized, you wouldn't until the story was over. Unfortunately, the look that was in their eyes caused the one memory that I had pushed into the back of my head to surface again.

The man with the scar over his eye spoke, his voice was so low that it was almost a growl, this really was like talking with death. "What are you doin' on my property Queens? That is your name, isn't it?" The scared look in my mom's face I will never forget. The tears started to stream down her face. A clear liquid, until it got down to her throat and slid down. Then, her tears turned into blood.

"I said what are you doing here Queens? Answer me!" The man was demanding attention. I looked over at my father who was standing next to me, the terrified look in his eyes were every bit as unforgettable as the look in my mother's. I'm never going to forget this moment, was all I could think . . . and I never did.

"Just calm down Jack, and give me my wife. Please, I'm begging you, this is my family, don't do this." My father was pleading for this not to happen. I could feel the tears coming out of my eyes, and I didn't really realize it, for crying was the least important thing to me at the time.

"You know Tommy boy, I had a family once. And do you know what happened to them?" The man pressed his knife into mom's throat even further. The blood really started to flow. My mother was crying so hard that, if she wanted to, she could make a river right here in the middle of the street. "They were killed, right here, in this very spot. Do you want to know who killed them Tommy boy? It was your family Tom. Your friggin' family!" He continued to push the blade further into my mother's throat, I thought by the look in her eyes, she was going to faint.

"Jack, please, this is my wife."

"They were my parents Tom! They were my parents! You killed them, your parents were there but you did it. It was your blade slicing through them. It was your blade that scarred me, you took my family, you took my sight, you took my life. Well, now it's payback time you little bitch!"

My father charged at them with such speed it was scary. As he was running towards Jack, he took his knife out of his boot and threw it. It spun for what seemed forever, an infinite moment, one that shouldn't have ever been. Jack, being the man he was, threw my mother to the ground, her face connecting with the pavement. The impact of the side of her face was deafening to my ears.

I turned back and ran into what was left of the store. I was not turning tail and running, I was looking for a weapon to fight the mob with. I ran back to the back where I found the trench coat, which I was still holding on to. What I saw there was the biggest chance of hope that I had ever seen. The bow, the one in the poster, was laying there, propped up against the wall which the trench coat was in front of.

Without a second thought I picked it up, the grooves of the carvings already feeling welcome in my waiting hands. I ran with it and picked up as many arrows I could find. I could hear the shouts of the gang, rooting for Jack. The grunts, the sliding of their feet on the concrete, the fight was sure to be talked about in West Star for years to come.

I ran out the door and saw my mother, having not moved from her position on the ground. I wasn't paying much attention to the fight between my father and Jack, but I was pretty sure that my dad had things under control. I saw grubby hands getting ready to touch my mother. The flash of McGraw ran through my head, the disturbing sight of him was enough to tell me what to do.

I dropped the trench coat and all of the arrows, save one. I fitted it against the bowstring as expertly as I could, having not shot a bow before. I raised my bow and stared straight down the shaft of the arrow, until the closest homeless' head was straight in line with the arrowhead. My mother looked at me, and smiled, for the first time in a month. I could see the pearls that were her teeth, and I cried.

"Bang."

I released the arrow. It went as straight as straight can be, fitting perfectly into my opponent's head. He fell after letting out his final breath, which came out as a shrill scream and grunt. His body smacked against the pavement next to my mom. Mom made a small scream after looking into the now dead eyes of my fallen adversary.

I quickly grabbed my arrows and stuffed them into my jean pockets, the two at my hips and the two on the back. I was running towards my mom, continually releasing arrows. The arrows ripping through the homeless like my knives would sometimes rip through the paper sacks back home. Homeless after homeless fell from my onslaught of arrows. Once I reached my mother, and thirteen I had counted were dead, I hoisted my mother onto my right shoulder and hurried her to the store as fast as I could. That was my intent, but that's not what happened.

"Where do you think you're going boy?" I already recognized the voice, but all I could do was freeze with terror. I felt a sharp pain in my gut, not from a knife, but what felt like a fist the size of my head. I flew backwards a good 5 feet, with my mother landing on top of me.

I felt and tasted something that wasn't spit. Without warning, it came out of my mouth. I looked and saw what was a small pool of my own blood. As I was looking down, I saw a boot come and remain in front of my face. I didn't have to look up at who the boot belonged to, for I already knew that it was Jack.

"How does it taste son? Want some more?" I quickly glanced past his foot and saw my father on the cement. He looked, well, let's just say that he's looked better. He gave me a blank stare, and for a moment, I wondered if he was even alive.

The next thing I felt was the sole of his boot, meeting the side of my nose. I immediately went to the ground and lied there. Blood was flowing from my mouth, but now, it was not from internal injuries. It was from a severely busted lip. I spit to get some of the taste out of my mouth.

I could hear some scrambling around, I knew it was my father. I looked up to see what he was doing. He went to the front of the store and picked up the black leather trench coat which I had left. What he did next, was something all to familiar. He looked at me, and smiled.

"What are you smiling about Tommy boy," Jack said, turning to look at my father. There was a long pause, and a long stare between the two. During this time, I gathered my senses and fit an arrow into my bow. I had to pull this off perfectly, or my family would be alive no more.

"I'm giving you one chance Jack, give up."

"Why should I give up Tommy? Giving up is weakness, and I am by no means like your family."

"Have it your way Jack. Your about to lose more than just your eye." With that last sentence my father threw the trench coat just over Jack's head. The wind filled the jacket and it seemed as if an invisible man was wearing it.

Many things happened in this moment. Jack caught on pretty quick as to what was about to happen, and if he didn't act fast, his life was over. He spun on his heels and started to fall on his side. In this same instant he threw his bloody knife and it tore through the trench coat. The knife, clearly aimed at me, was coming straight for my face. I had just enough strength to turn onto my side, dodging the knife, it did however slice my stomach slightly. I saw his face through the hole for not even a second. This was it. I had just enough time, this might work. No, it has to work. In this infinite moment I had enough time to say one thing.

"Bang."


	2. Issue 2

"Green"

Part 1 of 6

by Steave

"Bang."

I released the arrow and saw it soar through the hole in the black leather trench coat and slam into, and through, the face of Jack. The all too infinite moment was finally over. Jack fell backwards and his head made a sickening slapping sound as it connected with the concrete. His mouth was agate and his eyes had rolled into the back of his head. The arrow had went into his forehead and jolted through the back of his cranium and was lying in the street.

Jack's expression was the same as his dead comrades that were lying in the street with my mother and me. I surveyed the situation around me, trying to get Jack's now pale face out of my head and tried to find my father. He was lying in a heap beside the arrow that penetrated Jack's forehead. His sweat mingled with blood dripping from his nose and mouth due to the brutal battle he had with Jack.

He struggled to get up, but he managed, and walked towards my mother and me, giving a death glare at the mob of homeless that was still around us. They were all still in awe of what they had just witnessed. A fifteen year-old kid had just killed their leader, this knowledge must have been overwhelming.

"We need to get out of here," my father said with a loss of breath. "We can't stay here any longer if we plan on staying alive."

My father wasn't expecting any trouble from the mob, especially after what had just transpired. They wouldn't come near us, or even dare to try. I managed to pick myself up without too much trouble, even with the internal injury I had received from Jack's boot. The miniature pool of blood still stained the concrete that crept out of my mouth and forced its way out.

I went to help my sick mother stand up, the blood still trickling from her neck. Her tears still stained her pale cheeks, but the glow from her green eyes had not yet faded. Her eyes still sparkled like tiny stars, and it was beautiful to behold. I put my arm in between the gap of the bow-string and the wooden part and swung it to my back. My father and I grabbed her under her arms and gently lifted her off of the pavement.

We walked away from the mob of homeless and got a good 100 feet from them before I heard shouts of anger and disgust. I glanced back at the homeless and that crazed look that I had once beheld at the age of seven was in their eyes. One of the more fit looking of the homeless holding a piece of wood, which I assumed would be used as a club, started to come at us at an alarming rate, followed by the rest of the homeless.

"Father, get her away from here, I can handle this," I told my father with absolute certainty. "I can hold them off, just get mother out of here."

"Alright son, but I will be right back," he replied, with the calm gentleness in his voice.

I let my mother go and my father picked her legs up with his right arm and carried her in a cradling position. It reminded me of how my mother would have carried me when I was a baby. But there was no room to think of this now. It was time to fight once again, and I was more than ready and willing to.

I slid the bow off of my arm and pulled an arrow out of my jean pocket. I fitted the arrow into my bow and gazed down the shaft as I closed the gap between me and the homeless. I waited until the arrowhead was aimed directly at the forehead of what appeared to be the new leader. I gazed and once he was ten feet from me, I released the arrow.

I was too late, and he had already studied my movements from the previous encounter. He was already beginning to raise his club before I let loose the arrow and, with remarkable skill, batted the arrow out of the sky with a swipe perpendicular to the path of the arrow. This was only moments before it would have connected with his forehead.

A sick and twisted smile crept along his mouth and he talked in a low, baritone voice, "You gotta be better than that boy, if you wanna keep up with me."

I stared at my new adversary and only hatred and disgust filled my heart. I pulled another arrow out of my pocket and fitted it into my bow. I aimed, not at the leader, but at the man moving next to him. I released the arrow and it flew through the air and stuck into the right side of his chest. He fell onto his knees and the others only moved around him, leaving him to bleed to death.

The group was only five feet from me, and then I decided it was time to run. I turned and ran as fast as I could, towards the way father and mother went, I'm sure they went off of the street and into an alleyway, I was hoping that I wouldn't lead them straight to them. At this, I turned to my right and headed for Greenland Park and to the river.

The sudden turn surprised the homeless, and many stumbled, some fell. The leader however did not, and he continued to run. I came to a halt near the river and threw my arrows out of my pocket, and jammed them, arrowhead down, into the ground. I picked one up as fast as I could and fitted it. I aimed at the group, no person in particular and fired the arrow. As I hoped, it hit one, and the back half of the homeless fell over the dead one. This would buy me some more well needed time, except the front half of the group was almost to me. I hurriedly fit another arrow and fired at the front group, luckily, it caught one, and the same happened to them.

There were only three left, counting the leader that were still standing. I looked to the left of me and discovered a wide tree, the leaves dangling off of the branch's color were kind of an olive green. I crouched behind my wall of arrows, grabbed one of them, and tumbled to behind the safety of the tree.

I heard the footsteps of the three men approaching and then abruptly stop. Then, I heard something whizzing by in the air. I looked straight in front of me and the flying object had skidded off of the ground into the water. Another whiz, only I could feel something striking the tree. Throwing knives. They were more than likely hoping that the knives could pierce the bark of the tree.

Well, at this point I knew that they were out in the open. I peered from behind the tree and surveyed the three men. They were in the middle of a clearing of trees. This should be too easy was all I could think to myself.

I went back to my arrows and started to collect them and put them back into my pockets. Looking at the three men, I noticed that they weren't really quite sure where I was. The cover of night helped more than I could've hoped for. They started to scream obscenities that I shall not repeat, but after I collected my arrows, I went back to the safety of the tree.

I looked up the bark of the tree and noticed that it was indeed climbable. I wrapped the bow around my back and leaped up catching a low branch. I pulled myself up and, while making little noise, moved to the side facing the homeless and crouched. As I gazed from behind the leaves, the other homeless, the ones who took a nasty fall, had come into the clearing. "Oh, this should be extremely easy," I muttered to myself.

They started to all converse and had wondered where "the little brat" had gone off to. I slid my bow from my back, and carefully fitted an arrow into my bow. Making sure I made no noticeable sound, I crept to the edge of the branch, but staid in cover of the leaves. I pulled back on the arrow and aimed for their leader, who was standing in the center of the large group.

It was going to be a tough shot, one of the toughest ever, but I could manage it. I'm sure I could, no, I know I could. A smile snuck onto my face and I gently whispered to myself, "bang."

The arrow was released and flew out of the tree and I heard the grunt of a man. As he fell, I could already tell, it wasn't the leader. My aim was only off by a hair, and I caught the man next to him. After the homeless fell, the entire group looked up where I was, they had tracked the location of the arrow, if they had spotted me or not, I couldn't tell.

"The brat's up there! Get him!"

The leader screamed this at the top of his lungs and the homeless obeyed his orders. I was already one step ahead of them. I could hear them screaming and running towards the tree. Their footsteps echoing in my brain, they couldn't be too far away now. Sliding to the lowest branch, I knew what I was going to do.

Crouched, I listened to their footsteps and yelling, only a few seconds later, they seemed close enough. I held onto the branch with my hands and swung down. The bark of the branch made small incisions in my hands, but nothing too deep or serious. I swung my legs back and forth, gaining momentum, I only had seconds, and I was amazed at how fast I had gotten down the tree and was already ready for the homeless.

The group came bursting from around the tree as I was in forward motion. I was ready for them, but they weren't ready for me. I released my grip from the tree branch as I was moving forward. My legs were together and I was like a human missile being launched at the homeless. The first one in my sights caught my feet straight in his face. This caused him to hurl backwards and into the group, falling over again.

I landed flat on my back, driving the air from my lungs into the night sky. I quickly rose to my feet and sprinted back a couple of yards, pivoted, drawing an arrow and fitting it, and shot at the fallen group. It found its mark on the poor soul that got my feet in his face.

When I bothered to look around, I noticed that I was in the clearing . . . bad move. As I swung around to escape, I also noticed something else, during all of the confusion, they surrounded me. A careless mistake I had made looking back on it now, but I assure you, I will not make this same mistake again.

The leader came from the side of me and stepped into the circle, into our unofficial arena. We stood there, gazing at one another. It was so silent you could hear a feather drop on the grass. I never really cared to notice the physical features of the man until now. He was a good inch or so taller than me, and wore no shirt. He had a nice physique, his muscles were a good size, obviously bigger than mine. His face had intelligence written all over it, by the look of his face, he knew what he was doing. He had brown eyes and was bald, no facial hair.

His voice then broke the silence, "Looks like you've been outsmarted boy. Any last words 'fore ya die?"

"I only have three words to say to you. Go to hell." My voice was very cocky and arrogant, but the time for talking had ended. I knew he saw this coming, but I decided if I couldn't get him, it would be just as good to take some of his crew out. I drew an arrow quickly and fired, but he was already in motion. He ducked and crouched as the arrow flew over his head. It flew into the eye of a woman standing behind him. She made a shrill scream and fell over, dead.

He moved at me with great speed, so I followed suit and we met at the middle of the "arena." I put both of my hands on the edge of my bow and swung violently at his face. He rolled on the ground, avoiding the swing and rose to his feet. I pivoted and swung again, only this time, he put his club up and parried. His club, meeting my bow, we both pushed with all of our strength. Eventually, he won the power struggle and pushed me backwards, the momentum causing me to fall flat on my back.

He leaped forward at me, holding his club with both hands, coming down hard with a downward strike at my face. I rolled to my left and got out of the way. I was able to sit up and swing my bow at his calf, which he leaped over. He was amazingly fast, and I wasn't quite sure how I was going to be able to beat this man.

Right after his feet landed on the ground, and I was just finishing my sweep with my bow, he one-handedly swung his club and connected with my temple. I immediately fell to the ground, dropping my bow. I noticed that my vision started to become blurry, I had to stay conscious. I got on my hands and knees and was beginning to get up, when I felt something hard hit me straight in my gut. I fell back on the ground, and something warm and not too pleasant forced its way our of my mouth. I looked on the ground . . . blood.

Something warm started to stream down the left side of my face. I was already aware of what it was, and it didn't bother me as much as my internal injury, which this man had reawakened. That was his upper hand, he had seen me fight and knew my weaknesses. At the time, he appeared to have none. "I can't win," was the only thought going through my head.

I lied there on the ground, thinking about my next move, when something started to tug on my hair. I was yanked completely off of the ground and set on my feet. My vision finally started to return to normal, and all I could see were two brown eyes glaring at me.

"I think you're the only one who's going anywhere son," were the only words the man spoke. He gave me a hard punch, straight to my stomach, but continually held me up by my hair. The feeling came again, and the blood forced out of my mouth, only it turned into a spit. It went directly into the face of this madman. I forced a painful chuckle and a smile. The blood was gushing from my temple now, and the entire left side of my face was covered in it, which was impairing my vision somewhat.

"You're gonna pay for that ya little bitch!" Another punch, only this one was straight to my nose. Blood oozed from my nose and my sense of smell was clogged by the smell and taste of blood. Tears were forming at my eyes and started to mingle with the blood on my face.

"What kid, ya gonna go cry to that little whore of a mom!" That feeling of anger and hatred returned, and the pain went away. I stared a hole at this man and forced some words out of my mouth.

"If you even mention anything about my mother again, what you've done to me, will be nothing compared to the suffering I will cause you."

"Tough words comin' from such a scrawny little punk." This man was only making it worse for him. I grew angry and I bent my right leg, swung back, and swung forward, keeping my leg bent. If he was a man, this was going to hurt. My knee connected with his . . . you know. The cocky and arrogant look that was once in his face was gone now. His face was full only of surprise and pain and he fell forward, releasing his grip on me, and landed on the ground.

I managed to land on my feet and pulled my knife from my boot. Full of rage and hatred I made my way over to the, now stunned, man. Looking over him, I noticed that he too, was carrying a knife on his boot. I removed it and got in a mounting position over him. I placed my knife between my index finger and my middle finger, and did the same with his, only between my middle and ring finger. I made a fist, with the blades pointed towards him and raised his head.

"Do it kid. I'll be waiting for you in hell."

"I'm looking forward to it." With that last sentence I punched at his head, the knives diving into his forehead. I left his knife in his head, but took mine. All I could think about was the last thing I said, and it wasn't right. Should I have let him live? He was defenseless, and in the end, I was no better than he was. These were questions I could answer later, right now, my life was at stake.

From the direction of where I entered Greenland Park, I could hear a shout . . . a woman's voice. It sounded as if she was calling my name. I got off of the now former leader and turned to the voice. Coming into the circle of homeless, was a homeless whom I could remember, yet I didn't know why.

I looked at who he was holding by the throat . . . it was my mother. This scene reminded me too much of what had just transpired with Jack. A memory flashed in my mind, I now remembered. The man that I caught in his chest, and was left for dead, didn't die after all. He was now standing there, right in front of my eyes, holding my mother by the throat, and had a knife to it. Due to the darkness of the night, I couldn't tell what his physical features were.

Her beautiful green eyes were full of tears, and she now had black bruises all over her pale face. I looked around and something was out of place. Then, it finally hit me, my father wasn't there.

"Does she look familiar to you boy! DOES SHE!" His voice was a low growl, and it slightly reminded me of Jack. The man was demanding that I answer, all I could manage between the rage and sadness was a nod. "Good, cuz you're about to know what it's like to lose everything you ever loved! Oh boys, it's dinner time."

My eyes widened as did my mother's, and I could already hear the anxious footsteps of the homeless edging towards my mother. He threw my mother to the ground and ran off into the city. I ran to my bow and threw it off of the ground and into my waiting arms. Reaching into my pocket, I quickly pulled out an arrow and put it into my bow and fired at the closest one. Dead, and I repeated the process. After this one, they started to form a closer, tighter circle around my me and my mother.

I then gripped my bow as I had with their leader, and started swinging aimlessly, just trying to keep them away from my mother. One of the homeless came from behind and took me to the ground. I was able to hang onto my bow, but we started to roll and wrestle away from the group. We reached the edge of the river and I managed to throw him off and into the current, and I witnessed him struggle to come back to shore, but he wasn't strong enough, and he soon faded off into the night.

I got to my feet and ran towards the group, and I could see their dirty hands grope and maul my mother. The first homeless that stood in my way received a blow to the back of the head. The force was so strong behind the blow, I wasn't quite sure if the homeless survived it or not.

I kept swinging, trying to reach my mother, and I took down homeless after homeless. Then my mother started to scream wildly and I could see her struggling to get the homeless away from her. The homeless started to circle around me too and they had made two circles, another around my mother.

Then, I could feel them trying to rip at my skin, and they were so close I couldn't do too much of anything. I managed to get a few short punches into some of their temples and noses, but they kept coming back. They started to pull me further from my mother, tears mingled with the blood on my face as I screamed for my mother.

She kept screaming and crying. I fought desperately to pull myself towards her, but there were too many homeless. They tugged and I pulled and I only went closer to the river.

"MOTHER! DON'T GIVE UP!"

"I LOVE YOU OLLIE! I LOVE . . ," then my mother's desperate cry of help turned into a grunt and a squeal.

"NOOOOOO! MOTHER!"

I then bore witness to something I never wanted to see again. Flashes of Scar's body being ripped apart ran through my thoughts and mingled with what I was watching. My mother's body, was being ripped in half.

I screamed with rage and hatred and I violently punched and kicked the homeless that were carrying me away. I felt a crack as I connected with one's nose, and I was sure I had broken my hand, but the homeless who received the punch, never got up again.

My legs were lifted off of the ground and I was being carried to my all too obvious destination. I put an arrow into my bow and waited for my cue. They then threw me, as hard as I could, towards the raging river. One last thing to do.

I spun, in midair, and aimed at one of the homeless. I released the arrow just seconds before I landed in the water, whether the arrow found its target or not, I will never know.

The water was cold against my naked upper body, and it was a raging river that day. My arms struggled to keep my head above water, but they failed. Every time I went up to get a quick breath of air, I was drug back underwater.

Ice cold water started to fill my lungs, and everything grew silent. I opened my eyes and all I could see was the deepness and vastness of the river. My eyes started to roll in the back of my head, but I forced them to stay open only a little longer, I hadn't given up hope yet.

The final moments with my mother flashed through my head, and I accepted that she was dead. Soon, I would join her. I let my eyes roll into the back of my head, and all was dark and silent.

. . . Pain. My hand started to hurt like hell. I wasn't sure if my eyes were open or not, all was dark, and I still couldn't hear anything. I could, however, move my hand, so it couldn't have been broken.

I forced my eyes open, was I dead? At the time, I couldn't really tell. All was blurry and white, then I let my eyes focus. I was lying on some rocks and pebbles, they dug into my skin, but after what I had been through, this was nothing.

Out of instinct, I rolled onto my back. It was morning, it must've been the next morning. The sky was clear and beautiful. It reminded me of my mother's beauty.

The image flashed again in my head, and I then realized I was not dead. I tried to sit up, and then I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and I fell back down. I felt around my temple and could feel the laceration started to seal up. The internal injury had not yet faded unfortunately, and the pain was excruciating.

As I lay there, thinking, I couldn't help but wonder, where was my father during that time. Why didn't he come help us? Was he murdered? Did he leave to get something for my mother only to return and find she wasn't there, and get to her when it was too late? These were questions, I hoped would be answered after I figured out exactly where I was.

I felt my right hand still gripping something and I turned my head to look at it. It was my bow, and it was amazingly still in one piece.

Ok, I had to be stronger than this. I forced myself to a sitting position, and struggled severely to get myself back up. After a couple of tries, I got myself up and took a look around, I imagined I couldn't be too far away from West Star, I mean, I hadn't been out very long . . .

I was amazed. This was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life. There was life and wilderness all around me. It was all so perfect. The trees were beautiful, birds hopped and flew all around the place. The only obvious answer to where I was, was in a forest outside of Star City.

My parents never talked about anything other than Star City, they had never told me what lie beyond its borders. Mostly due to the fact I'm not quite sure they exactly knew what was beyond Star City.

I gazed in wonder at the forest, and breathed it in. I looked in my pockets, and found that my arrows were no longer there, nor did I expect them to be. "Well, looks like I've got some work to do . . ."

I slowly made my way into the forest, going against the current of the river, back to what I hoped would lead me to Star City . . . and to my answers.


	3. Issue 3

"Green"

Part 3 of 6

by Steave

A few moments earlier.

Thomas was holding Kami in a cradling position and took her down the street. He managed one last glance back at his son, standing tall and proud. "You can do it son, I believe in you."

He ran into a nearby alley, every so often looking at his deathly pale, yet still beautiful wife. How he could ever have been so careless as to let Jack get a hold of her, he wasn't sure. But it would all be over soon enough, the plan was set into motion, there was only one thing he hadn't counted on happening. That man's name, was Jack.

The skirmish between the two had almost resulted in the premature death of Thomas' family, including himself. He barely escaped that encounter alive, with all thanks to his son. Ollie would grow up to be a strong young man, at least, he hoped he would.

What was he thinking? He wanted one thing, but yet another at the same time. He wanted to get out West Star didn't he? Then there was no more room for false love. His son had to die, and so did the one who he was currently protecting.

He stopped in an alley and set Kami down in a sitting position, propped up against the wall of one of the buildings. Tears were streaming down her face, and her eyes were full of depression and wonder. She wondered if her son was still alive, and if so, she wanted to hear his voice one more time.

"Why didn't Ollie come with us?"

"Shut up! We don't have time to talk about this Kam. I have other things to worry about."

"Things more important than your own son?"

"Just shut up! I don't care about this son of ours, and I don't care about you, you stupid whore." Thomas threw a right hand straight into Kami's jaw. The sound of his fist connecting with her jaw was sickening. The pure force behind the blow knocked her from her sitting position onto the cold concrete. "I'm surprised with all of the name calling you have received that that son of ours hasn't figured out what you have been up to. He never questioned where you were at night, because he thought you were with us, and you were usually. Until we found our little hell hole of a home. Then you were out just about every night.

"He thought his family was happy together, but after the incident with Scar, you changed. You became a little slut, and slept with anyone to get all of these things you thought we desperately needed. All we needed was your love Kam. Well now, you will pay for your sins and your nightly escapades."

Kami sat back up against the wall, blood now coming from her mouth. "I loved you both, you always knew that. I did all of that so we could be a happy family." Tears now started to stream down her pale face.

"We were a happy family. As happy as we could be living in West Star, but then, you changed. You turned on me, and betrayed me. You betrayed what I believe in, and you betrayed your son."

"You mean our son Tom. He's not just mine, and what could possibly be more important than our son?" Kami's eyes were full of question and curiosity.

"Money. Money is power, and money is the key to getting out of this place. I will get out of West Star, and I will become someone of importance. My son, my only son, believes in lies, he thinks his parents care for him. The truth is, I only stayed with you two so he would be happy. But now that he has been lied to, and you have turned into a cheap whore, I have no need for either of you."

"Oh my god! You set this up . . . you bastard."

Tom reared his fast back and struck her again, only this time in the side of the nose. "You have no right to call me anything after what you've done."

"You promised you would never leave us . . . you promised. So, you lied to our son too."

"And now, he is going to die, because if he knows the truth, he would kill me, and I can't let that happen now. Not when I'm so close to achieving my goal. He has gotten too strong, and poses too much of a threat. He must be removed."

"Are you even listening to yourself? Tom, you're not the same man I married, you've turned into a monster."

He raised his left hand this time, and rolled it into a fist. "What did you just call me?"

"You, are a pathetic monster."

He landed a hard punch in her right cheek. She fell to the ground, and blood started to form around her head. She wasn't dead, and Tom knew she wasn't. He grabbed her by her hair and propped her back up against the wall. Tom still couldn't believe how beautiful she was, even through the tears and the blood.

"It will all be over in a few seconds, he should coming any minute now."

"Who . . ?"

"You're executioner."

At this last remark, a man came into the alley. An arrow was sticking out of the right side of his chest, which he prominently tore out. However, there was no blood, and he didn't seem to be too affected by it. The man stood at about 6 feet and had black hair. His skin was brown and he looked fit. His brown eyes were staring a hole through Kami, and she felt cold inside.

"This her?" His voice was almost soothing, but Kami knew it wouldn't be soothing for much longer.

"Yeah, this is the bitch."

"Alright, you know what to do, there's a car about two blocks north of here, in it are instructions to get to East Star. My employer will be waiting for you at the location described in the note."

"Just make sure she dies, and make sure you kill the brat too."

Thomas made his way north, and never looked back at Kami. She felt dead inside, and stared up at this black man that now stood before her. His soothing voice quickly turned into a deep growl, he sounded like a monster. "Now then, honeybuns, you're coming with me."

"Where are you taking me?" She was almost too afraid to ask.

"To dinner."

He violently grabbed her by the arm and ran back the way her and Tom had went. She was going to her deathbed, and she knew it. There was no stopping it, nor this man who was running faster than anyone she had ever known. All she wanted was to see her son's face one last time, but she knew, that if he was alive, she was about to.

After a long, vigorous run, they had come to Greenland Park. It was still as beautiful as it ever had been. Kami took one last long look at it, for she knew it was her last chance to look.

"OLLIE! OLLIE!"

"Shut up you whore. He'll know soon enough." They were walking into the park and Kami could see the circle of homeless. Ollie was now standing, looking around the park for the location of the voice he had heard. A man lay at his feet, and she presumed that Ollie had just killed the man. However, she noticed he didn't come out of the battle unscathed, for the entire left side of his face was covered with blood. It was amazing to her that he still looked beautiful, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

They came into the circle and Ollie looked at her in horror. The man then started to speak, "Does she look familiar to you boy! DOES SHE!" Ollie's eyes seemed full of sadness and rage at the same time. He nodded. "Good, cuz you're about to know what it's like to lose everything you ever loved! Oh boys, it's dinner time."

Kami's eyes widened and she felt the man throw her to the ground with such strength that it was scary. Whoever this man was, he wasn't normal. She heard his footsteps trail off in the distance . . . coward.

She watched as the homeless crept towards her, all with the same crazed look in their faces for fresh meat. Ollie had picked up his bow and started to defend her. Creating a barrier between them and the homeless with his arrows and his swings. But she knew, it was in vain, and they couldn't escape alive. She wanted to just tell Ollie to give up, there was no hope for either of them, and it made her sad.

Ollie was taken down by one of the homeless, and they rolled away from the group towards the raging river. "This is it," was all Kami could think to herself. She lay there, and then felt herself be picked up off of the ground. The scratchy and cold hands started to maul and grope her. She could feel her clothes being ripped off of her body, and she knew what was coming.

Kami noticed something in the distance, towards the river, running towards the group. It was Ollie, full of determination and rage. Swinging and swatting the homeless, he screamed at them full of rage and hate. She was almost scared of what he would become of he lived through this.

The homeless then had surrounded Ollie and she noticed them starting to pull him away from her, towards the river.

"MOTHER! DON'T GIVE UP!"

"I LOVE YOU OLLIE! I LOVE . . ," then she felt something enter her stomach, and her body started to turn cold and numb. Everything started to fade away, and all was silent and dark. "I love you Ollie," was her final thought.

On a nearby rooftop.

A man, wearing all black stood, gazing through his binoculars. He could barely be seen in the dark night. His trench coat, fluttering in the wind. His face, was disguised by a black mask, with a white circle, and a smaller one inside. He stared through his binoculars and watched until the death of the woman. When it was over, his gloved hand reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a phone. He flipped it open, and answered.

"This is Pete. Yes sir it is done. Yes, the bitch is dead. Yes sir, he should be on his way. No, I'm not sure if the boy survived or not. I still want my money for the woman though. I'll be over shortly to collect it. Yes, Star City shall begin its journey to becoming one again. I'm looking forward to helping . . . Mr. Mayor."

Now.

I had just finished cutting up my jeans, which were now cut-off shorts, and wrapped the leggings around my stomach. Hopefully, this would help my stomach a little.

The images of my mother still ran through my mind, and I began to cry. I hadn't been emotional about it yet, but now, I couldn't help it. My mother had cared for me more than anything, of this I'm sure, and now she's gone. I could only wonder where my father was during all of this.

My eyes turned to the sky, it was a cloudy day. I could smell rain in the morning air. My logic had told me to get a move on and find a place to seek shelter. However, my heart did not agree, and all it would make me think about was what happened yesterday . . . or had it been two days ago?

My memory was still fuzzy from the incident with the river, and how I came to be here. I had lost track of time, and wasn't quite sure how long it had been since I was last in West Star. I can't say I preferred West to this sanctuary, but once I started to think about it, I became homesick.

I got up and started to continue my way through the beauty of the forest. The sound of thunder awoke me from my day-dreaming and I knew that the storm couldn't be too far off. I continued to wander the forest, making sure I stayed going against the current of the river, and I looked for a place to stay for the remainder of the day.

After some walking, I noticed a smooth rock wall to the right of me. I left the river and journeyed by the wall, and only a few steps later the wall abruptly stopped, and I was looking at a hole in the wall. I peered inside, and I was peering inside of a cave. I wandered inside, and without any light, it was hard to determine how far it went, and hard to give an accurate description. I stopped and turned back towards the light at the cave's entrance.

Well, I had found a place to stay for the night, now there was another problem. How was I going to keep warm? Then, it hit me. I felt a pain in the stomach, only not like the pain I felt that day when I was punched by that man. This was a different kind of pain. It was the pain of hunger.

The wildlife would more than likely find a place to hide like I had, and plus, I had no ammunition to take out an animal if I wanted to. All I had was my bow, and a knife. A lot of good that was going to do me.

I stood at the entrance of the cave and gazed upwards at the sky. The storm was almost here, but there was no way of telling if all of the animals had reached or found shelter yet. I placed my bow on the ground of the cave and drew my knife. I ran outside and searched all around this particular area of the forest.

Nothing.

I did, however, find fallen branches or long sticks on the ground and took them with me. Running back to the cave, I noticed some stones near the cave. I picked them up as well and carried them with me to the cave.

A few seconds after I reached the cave, the rain started to fall . . . hard. I walked a good 10 feet from the entrance and dropped the sticks and rocks. Now, I had seen trash fires lit, but it was nothing like this. I had, however, seen and one time used two stones to create a fire.

I made a pile of the sticks, however not using all of them, for the others had "special" purposes. Putting the stones close to the sticks, I scraped them together fast and hard.

Nothing.

I tried again, and there was nothing. Becoming frustrated, I scraped faster and harder, and still got nothing.

"You know, getting angry isn't going to help any," I told myself. I cleared my head and thoughts of frustration and anger, and began to concentrate. I scraped more gently this time, yet still fast and a little hard.

Nothing.

The coolness from the rain started to creep into the cave and I shivered. I clacked the two stones together again.

Still nothing.

I wasn't quite sure what, or if I was doing anything wrong. But then again, I wasn't even quite sure what I was looking for. All I wanted was warmth and to be nice and cozy. I almost half expected the fire to just appear there. A foolish hope, I know it was. So I concentrated harder, and hit the stones together, this had to be it, I was so sure of myself.

Nothing.

"What the hell?" I angrily hit the stones together out of frustration.

Spark.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the stones close enough to the pile of sticks to start a fire. I put the stones very close to the sticks, and performed the same motion as last time.

Spark. Fire.

The twigs had caught the spark and turned into a flame. It was a good thing this was in a cave, for there was not really any wind to put the flame out. I sat down, triumphant and happy. Now then, if only I could have something to eat.

At this moment, something near the entrance of the cave caught my eye. I noticed something slither into the cave, but stuck close to the wall. At the time, I wasn't quite sure what it was. You have to remember that I had grown up in a city, and it didn't have very many snakes in it. Though, of course, I know what it is now, at the time, I had no clue as to what it was.

I pulled out my boot knife and stood up. My stomach now growling, I wandered towards this live, slithering thing. It coiled up, and just sat there, it's eyes glaring at me. What it was, I was not certain, but, with it being an animal, I was sure that it was edible.

Not wanting to take too many chances, I launched my knife straight at what I assumed was its head. The knife struck this animal, and it keeled over. I picked it up, feeling the slimy, yet smooth texture of its skin. Putting it up to my nose, I took a sniff. It smelled disgusting. I hoped that it tasted better than it smelled.

Taking one of the "special" sticks, I jammed it through the animal's mouth and out it's end. I placed it over the fire, mimicking what my father had done with some of the animals that we had eaten, which were the best of meals. If I had a choice between garbage or animals, I would much rather eat the obvious answer.

After the animal looked good enough to eat, I took a chunk out of it's "side." I chewed, moving the meat all around my mouth and getting familiar with the taste. To my surprise, it was quite scrumptious. I ate the animal until there was nothing left of it. I wasn't too sure I cared for the head of this animal, but it's body was delicious. This was easily the best meal I had ever had.

I fell onto my back and let my thoughts take me where they would. Of course, it brought me back to my family. Those lingering questions about my father returned as well. Why wasn't he there? I tried to push those questions out of my head, assuming that my father would have saved us if he knew it was happening.

I reached over and took one of the sticks and started to sharpen it with my knife. I had need for these arrows, and I had a feeling it would be very soon. After the rainfall, I had planned on getting some more food, hoping the flame would stay up. If it did not, I knew what to do. This forest was an endless supply of wood, and it wouldn't be hard to make another fire.

Sitting up, I gazed outside the cave, looking at the remaining beauty of the forest. My gaze turned, and I got a better look at the cave I was currently residing in. I noticed that the cave continued to go deeper into this forest, and how far exactly it went, I wasn't sure. Some day, maybe, I would venture deeper into this cave, and learn its secrets, but that time wasn't now.

My thoughts returned to my mother, and how I would never see her beautiful smile or her green eyes ever again. Tears formed at my eyes, but I pushed them back.

"You need to stay strong Ollie. No point in giving up now, you have to keep going. Mom wouldn't want you to throw your life away because of this," I reassured myself. I knew these words I spoke to myself were true, I had to hold it together. I would return to Star City, and I would have my answers. Of this, I was sure.

East Star City.

Thomas sat in a very comfortable chair facing a beautiful oak desk. The chair sitting behind it, was empty. He had never been in a more beautiful room in his life, but that isn't hard when you've lived where you have your entire life. The room was of an oval shape and was carpeted in a beautiful green color. The walls were painted white, and were decorated with portraits of past mayors of Star City.

Some have said that Star City has usually had the best mayors in the country, and that if you became mayor here, you should run for president. However, the same might not be able to be said about Star's current mayor. Caring little for the welfare of others, he forced Star to separate itself, between the poor and the rich.

His motives, unclear, other than he was careless and cared little for the well being of others. Now, he cares, or just wants the rich to live on and the weak to die. Thomas had heard of this, and this was his only way out.

Thomas heard the doors open behind him and he swung his gaze behind him, towards the entrance of the room. Walking in, was a man with a posture that looked like that of one who was going to lead to world. He was obviously at least in his mid 40s, possible early 50s, but age didn't necessarily matter. His face was very regal looking, like he was supposed to be a king of the Middle Ages. There was no hair on his head, save the back of his head and the sides. It's color a mix between grey and white, and had thinned out somewhat.

His body wasn't small by any means, but by no means large. He was not overweight or incredibly muscular, he was a normal size. He did not slouch, instead he walked straight and tall. This man, was obviously a very proud man.

He moved to his chair and sat in it, gazing at Thomas. His hazel colored eyes seemed to be burning a hole through him. At last, he spoke in a calm and gentle voice, "So, what can Mayor Jefferson Blain do for you today?"

"Well, sir, I think you know why I'm here."

"Oh, that's right. Thomas isn't it? I met you at the bridge. Pete told me of your desperate need to get out of West, and I agreed to help. Perhaps this is the moment we have been waiting for."

"Excuse me, what do you mean by that sir?"

"Well, due to the constant growing of West Star, the area is getting out of hand. We have had reports of police officers being attacked in the middle of the night and some of the homeless creeping into East. Due to these actions, and what we are doing to you, we will offer the same choice to all of West. You may enter and live in East Star, but you have to pay for it."

"And how exactly would they pay for it sir."

"By exactly what you did, to get in, you give us your family. Well, give Pete your family. I know how some of the homeless are just yearning for our way of life, and want it the easy way. This act will reunite Star and no more homeless to stay in our way and bother our citizens. Star City will become a respectable place once again, and business will be better than it ever has been before. Star City will go into a "Golden Age," so to speak."

"Did Pete report to you about my family? Did they live?"

"Yes, Pete witnessed the death of you wife. However, your son, he is not sure about. Whether the homeless took him to do what they would with him, or if he escaped is uncertain. Some say they saw a body struggling in the river, and due to this, I know what to do."

"Wait, you said if they lived they would stay alive."

"I'm afraid, Tommy boy, I am going to have to change that. If other homeless have to give up their families, you have to too."

"No please sir, I still care for my son. I didn't think he would live, but, if you're giving me a second chance, please, give him a second chance too."

"No, Tom, I can't do that. This is out of fairness, and if you were so willing to do this before, why turn back on it now? You do want your money don't you? You want to be given a chance and become a very respectable, and powerful man I might add, don't you?"

"Yes . . . sir."

"Ah, very good, I have just the man to do the job."

"Pete?"

"No, Pete will have his hands full with work here, I have another man in mind. You may come in now."

Jefferson motioned to the entrance of his office and from the hallway entered a man wearing a rolled up long sleeve white button up shirt. Blue jeans covered his legs, and holding them up was a brown leather belt. His red hair was short cut, but not overly short and he wore shades, hiding his eyes. A very expensive looking watch adorned his right wrist, and by his looks, Thomas knew what kind of work he did.

Thomas stood up and the unknown mercenary extended his hand. "His name is Eddie Fyers," the mayor said. Thomas looked at him and Eddie lowered his shades. He had blue eyes, they reminded him painfully of his son. Tom took Eddie's hand.

"You can call me Ironhorse."


	4. Issue 4

"Green"

Part 4 of 6

by Steave

Cold.

I woke up to feel the cold stone of the cave I now resided in against my naked skin. After letting my eyes readjust, I could tell it was morning outside of the cave. The ground was still wet and shimmering from the rainfall the day before. The clouds had parted, leaving the sky blue and beautiful. The sun illuminated the once dark cave, yet it did not pierce the blackness that was towards the back of the cave. "I'm still going to have to explore all of this some day," I told myself.

I took a sniff of the morning air, it was as beautiful as the sky. Pulling myself off of the ground, I noticed that the flame had went out. It was no matter, I could get it going again if I needed to.

I heard and felt a small rumble in my stomach. Hungry. The snake was delicious, but I needed something for breakfast, I couldn't travel on an empty stomach. I needed energy if I planned on making it back to Star quickly.

The thoughts of my mother once again invaded my mind. I saw flash after flash of the homeless ripping her apart. "You will be avenged mother," I muttered under my breath. Revenge was the only thing on my mind at the moment.

I stared at my bow, and imagined fitting arrows into it and ripping them through homeless after homeless after homeless. No . . .

This wasn't right. I mean, revenge isn't the way to go, after all, look at Jack and what he became. Vengeance will only consume you, building it up wouldn't help anything. The only thing I should've been concentrating on was getting home and finding my answers. So, realizing this, I started to concentrate on these things.

I grabbed my bow and slung it over my shoulder. Reaching over to the cold ground, I snatched the arrows from it and stuffed them into my jean pockets. Well, what was left of my jeans. The leggings were still wrapped around my stomach, trying to ease the pain from days before.

Leaving the sanctuary of the cave, I welcomed the warmth of the sun against me. This day was going to be a good one . . . I could feel it.

I wandered straight ahead of me to the river to get something to drink. There was a slight breeze out this morning and it felt great mixed with the warmth of the sun.

I reached the river with great anticipation, I knew the river tasted great, mixed with rain and the breeze would help to cool it down. I plunged my face into the cold river and sucked up the water like I was a vacuum cleaner. However, at the time, I didn't even know what that was.

I could hear growling, but I payed no attention to it, for I only thought it was my stomach. I pulled my head out of the water and took a deep breath. As I wiped the water from my face, I could hear the growling, only this time, it was deeper. Opening my eyes, I could only imagine what I was going to be staring at. However, my imagination, didn't even come close to preparing me for what I saw.

"Oh bloody hell."

Staring at me, on the other side of the river, was a huge brown furred creature. It was on all fours and had deep brown eyes. The creature had a long snout that would every so often start to twitch. Whether this was because of anger or because it was smelling, I wasn't sure. It was like staring almost certain death in the face, and I grew scared. This was something I wasn't accustomed to.

The creature's nose started to twitch and sniff. All that could enter my mind was how my mother was torn apart by the homeless. Fitting, that now I should share the same fate as my mother. Only, it wasn't going to be homeless that would rip my body to shreds.

I wasn't going to go down without a fight, but I had to outsmart this creature. There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to outmatch it in terms of strength. I had not yet seen it's speed, so I couldn't say if I was faster or not, for this was yet to be tested. I guessed that it was time to find out.

I reached slowly, but quicky, into my boot where my knife was strapped in. Drawing it, I fell onto my back, and I released the knife from my hand. The knife twirled in midair, being flung towards the creature. I hadn't aimed in any particular area, I just flung the knife, hoping to catch it in a vital area.

It caught the creature in what looked like its shoulder or neck. A spurt of blood shot from the wounded area, leaving me to wonder if the creature was going to fall over and die. Instead of doing this action, it's eyes gave me such a stare I could've died from it. It opened its mouth and let out a huge growl and snarl.

The noise from this creature almost made me deaf. There was about only one thing I could think to do next, and I was already in motion of doing it.

I threw myself off of the ground and made a dead sprint to anywhere but there. All I could think about was my mother being ripped apart by the homeless, and how maybe that was going to be my fate as well.

No.

I couldn't let this happen to me. I was stronger than this, I have to survive so I could get my answers. My mother wouldn't want me to give up, and I wasn't about to.

The trees were whizzing past me. My speed was shocking, even to me, but looking back on this, it must've been the adrenaline pumping in my veins. I couldn't remember ever running this fast before, but if I planned on beating this creature, it would take everything I had.

I glanced a look over my back to see how far or close the creature was to me. I was outrunning the creature, but not by much. It had incredible speed for its massive size. As I was enthralled by the creature's speed, I was not aware of what was in front of me.

Shifting my glance to in front of me, there was a huge tree which stood in my way. This, surprisingly, was just what I needed.

The plan had already formulated in my head about what I was going to do next. I slung the bow off of my shoulder and fitted it with an arrow from my pocket only seconds before reaching the tree. I placed my right foot onto the trunk of the tree and pushed off of it to my left. Twirling in midair to land on my side, I aimed carefully at the giant furry creature.

I let loose the arrow. I could see it piercing the air, flying towards the brown mammoth. The plan had worked to its fullest.

The arrow had caught the animal in its right shoulder as it tried to avoid its collision with the tree. It slid on the soft grass and crashed into the tree. While it was disoriented, I figured this would be my best chance of escape. I threw myself off of the ground, and began my sprint for survival.

I continued to follow the river, knowing it would lead me to the right place, only, I didn't know how long or how far it would be before I reached my destination. Occasionally, I would glance over my shoulder to find the animal that had nearly caused the end of me, there was no sign of the beast.

My lungs started to scream for more air, so I obeyed them. I slowed myself to a stop to regain my breath, and my composure. There was a good sized rock propped up against a tree near me. I decided to sit against it, I could've used some rest.

"What a day."

My eyes started to close by themselves and I started to think of West Star, and of my eventual return. I began to think of the answers that I sought, and the answers that I would find. They still lingered in my brain, rising up again and again while I was idle. Why didn't my father save us? Could he have saved us?

I started to feel drowsy and sleep started to overtake me. "Eh, what the hell," I told myself, "a little sleep never hurt anyone." If I could rewind time, that would have been one of the points in which I would come back to.

I can tell you now kid, sleep . . . sleep hurts.

A few miles from Star City.

"Man, how could I have ended up doing this guy's dirty work? I mean, he's amayor with an extremely good assassin in his right hand. I'm sure he could get him out here to do a damn cleanup. After all, this was his freakin' mission to begin with. Oh well, the more money the better."

Eddie "Ironhorse" Fyers. Mercenary. A damn good one too.

He talks to himself as he drives his green all-terrain Ford F150. Eddie loves his Ford almost more than seeing the last looks on a person's face right before he gave them a bullet between their eyes.

He peered out from his black sunglasses, looking off in the direction of Greenland Forest. "The bastard's gotta be there," he spoke to himself again. This highway would drive right through the forest, which Eddie hoped the kid wouldn't have gone to. That would take away the fun from the chase, and it would mean maybe the kid was back in Star already.

Eddie took another puff of his cigarette, he knew he should quit. It causes cancer. But when it came to risking your life 24/7, cancer was of little or no concern.

His next task, however, he wouldn't consider "risking his life." This was gonna be just like shooting fish in barrel, only, the barrel was almost smaller than the fish.

Eddie had gotten in some pretty serious fights. He remembered having a run-in with some guy named Scar. Both walked away from the fight, but neither walked away unscathed. Scar had gotten him a long one in the back with a knife. Eddie had returned the favor, only his landed Scar down his chest.

He finally reached the forest, it was time to take a detour. He turned to his left and went off of the highway into the forest. Where the little creep could be, he had no idea. But if he did know, that would take all the fun out of it.

Eddie drove until he reached a clearing. If he had a heart, he would've been amazed at the beauty of this place. Fortunately to him, some crazy bitch had taken that years ago.

The truck came to a stop and he exited his most trusty vehicle. He pulled out with him a rifle, and he flung the strap over his shoulder and onto his back.

"Fun time," Eddie told himself, and he walked forward, deeper into the forest.

Elsewhere in Greenland Park.

"Ollie?"

The voice was disturbingly familiar.

"Mom?"

It was pitch black, all I could see was my mother. What we were standing on, was nothing. All around us was nothingness. This couldn't be real, whatever it was.

"Yes son, I'm here."

"Oh mother," I couldn't contain myself. I ran forward to her and leaped into her awaiting arms. I could feel the tears start to stream down my face. "I missed you so much mom."

"Oh Ollie, I know, I know."

"What happened mom? Why didn't dad come?"

She fell silent.

"Mom?"

" . . . You will find your answers in due time, my son. But when you return to Star, and you learn the truth, just remember, your father and I always loved you, and we always did what we thought was best for you. When you discover the truth, just remember, there is a fine line between vengeance and justice. Vengeance is selfish, and justice sometimes shouldn't be served by anyone, including you, or me. When the time comes Ollie, don't let hate overthrow your heart, follow it, listen to it. Your heart will lead you in the right direction, always. If you do choose vengeance though Ollie, it will stay with you for the rest of your life."

"What's going to happen mom?"

"You will find your answers in time Ollie, stay strong for me."

She starts to fade in the darkness.

"Mother!"

"Ollie, do one last thing for me, ok?"

"Anything mother, anything."

"Wake up."

I felt a small drop of something wet hit my face. Rolling over on my back, and opened my eyes. Trust me on this one kid, never fall asleep in a situation like this, it's never good for anything.

Sleep hurts.

My eyes opened to the sight of the same terrifying sight I saw when I took my head out of the river only a little earlier. Those death-stare brown eyes glaring at me. The beast had found me, and it didn't look in the least bit happy about any of this.

The creature swung its right arm and paw away from my head, only to swing it back, and it caught me straight in the side of my head. The pure force of the blow knocked me a ways back, and I crashed into a tree. My stomach had collided with the trunk, and the jeans could only protect so much of my injured stomach.

I could feel the warmth of the blood crawling up my throat and eventually out of my mouth. Putting my hand against the left side of my face, I could feel the blood. The left side of my face screamed in pain and stung to the touch.

I noticed the creature now stood, not walked on all fours, towards me. The girth and size of this mammoth was incredible. I had never seen anything alive that was so huge. It swiped at my side, and being cornered against the tree, I took the blow.

The pain was almost unbearable, and it cut deep into my skin. I screamed in anguish and in terrible pain. Trying to pick myself up, I could only get so far, only to fall back to the ground. Then, the creature roared.

It didn't roar from pain, it roared from anger. The feeling of battle and blood was upon it. I looked into it's eyes, and the look almost matched that of the homeless back in West Star.

There was only one thing I could think of doing, and it at least seemed like it would work. Somehow, I was able to pull myself off of the ground and leaned against the rock. I was already anticipating the next swipe, and I knew it would do it. And, of course, the beast took another swipe at my head.

It was a good thing I was timing this, if not, I would not be alive right now. It's massive brown tree-trunk-like arm swung at me, I ducked and grabbed a hold with both of my arms. Holding on with all of my strength, I flipped myself over it's arm so that I was facing the same direction that it was.

It started roaring and screaming and trying to yank or pull me off of its back. This crazed frenzy wasn't getting the beast anywhere. Sliding off of it's arm and onto it's back, I had noticed earlier that my knife was still stuck in the creature's shoulder from earlier. I put both of my hands on the handle and pulled with all of my might. The beast roared and screamed, until finally the knife was freed.

Blood started to flow from the now open wound and the creature reached from behind it's head and grabbed my body. I felt small in this creature's paws, it felt like I was a baby again being held by my father. I could feel myself being pulled off of the creature's brown furry back and lifted into the air. Squirming and wriggling, I tried to break it's hold of me. Yet, all of my efforts turned out to be in vain. The beast threw me, and I mean threw me. My landing wasn't a soft one, as I crashed against a tree, but not the one closest to us, it was more like the one furthest from us.

Of course, with my luck, I landed stomach first against the tree, and I fell to the ground. There was no steadily creeping up my throat and out of my mouth this time, it just flowed right out. This time, when the blood came out, it didn't stop coming, it would only seem to get worse.

Blood stained the grass which I lay on, and finally, the blood stopped. However, I was losing blood elsewhere, the side of my head and my side. Turning my head to my left, my blonde hair was now in my eyes and I could not see where the creature was. Using more strength than I would have like to, I brushed my hair away with my hand. Not surprisingly, the mammoth was standing over me, it's shadow looming over my body like a dark cloud.

This was it, my final act of desperation. If this didn't kill the creature, I had no more tricks, for the mammal was too close to shoot an arrow. Anyways, that action would take too much needed time. This, however, would only take a second.

The knife was still clutched in my hand, which I slid down so the blade portion was what I was holding. I pushed myself up with my arms fully extended and shifted my weight so I was going to land on my uncut side. Falling, I threw my knife at it's mid section with all of my strength and might.

The blade pierced the mammoth's brown fur and skin, and went hilt deep into it's belly. As expected, it made a terrible roaring sound and thrust its arms towards the sky. Then, I was unsure of whether the beast would fall backwards, or come back down on all fours and give me one final stare. Unfortunately, the latter happened.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted."

That was my final attempt at humor before the end. After being alone all of this time, I had somehow been able to shut those images and questions out of my head and took on a lighter, and more fun personality. I learned that, even in death, life can still be appreciated, and all life should be. That includes this creature that was now about to devour me.

However, there was that side of me that asked those questions, and the side that remembered all of those images. It felt like I now had two distinct personalities. The vengeful one, and the light one. I finally realized this when my mother came to me in my dream. When she explained vengeance and the heart, my heart had finally opened up. There was a light side to me, and life felt right. Even if it meant me dying, I would try to find the best out of things. In this moment, it meant I would see my mother again.

But that darker side took over, and I grew with anger and vengeance and I gave the creature a stare to match its own.

"If you take me down, you'll go with me."

I didn't expect the creature to understand these words, but I didn't care either. I picked myself up and, in a fit of rage, screamed while the bear screamed. We both screamed for minutes that seemed like hours, until finally, we returned to the stare.

The mammoth stood on its hind legs, towering over me. This was it, the final moment of the confrontation. The animal lunged at me as I lunged towards it. Looking back on this moment, I can only ask, what the hell was I thinking?

But then I remember, I wasn't in control of myself, my rage and hatred were what were controlling me then, but thank God they don't anymore. I wasn't thinking anymore, only reacting, and my instincts told me to lunge, so I did. As we came only about an arm's length away there was only one sound I heard, and it finally snapped me back into reality. It sounded like a . . .

Bang.

The beast fell out of the air as I had jumped as hard as I could and landed on the other side of it. After tumbling and rolling for a short distance, I came to an abrupt stop. The pain in my side was now excruciating, and the blood was now flowing more out from the open wound. My head wasn't bleeding as bad as it had, but that didn't matter to me. I now had a new question that filled my head, what made the bang sound?

I looked in front of me, and the mammal, from now on I shall just call it a bear since I now know what it was, was lifeless and motionless. I tried to catch my breath and collect my thoughts, trying to focus on what I knew that could've made that sound.

I dug deep into my memories trying to find an answer, and then finally came to a discussion I had had with my father. He told me of man-made devices that sometimes looked like metal sticks or metal L's, but they made a loud noise like two boards of wood being slapped together. A small something came from the end of the metal thing and pierced your skin, father said that if you were ever to encounter someone with that kind of weapon to run as fast as your legs could carry you.

Then, I heard footsteps. I looked straight ahead of me, frantically looking for anything I could find. Finally, what looked like black boots came into view. The style reminded me of Jack's boots. My stomach then felt weak and got that funny feeling like blood was going to crawl back up my throat. Just remembering what Jack did to me caused great pain to my stomach.

The boots stopped about an inch from my face, then, a gruff and arrogant voice spoke.

"Well if it ain't the little brat. I was hoping you woulda been a little harder to find, but thanks to that bear and your commotion, it made it rather easy. Now then, since I just prolonged your death for a few more minutes, the least you could do is be a good sport and make this an exciting last few minutes of your life, as well as mine. I haven't had a true good fight in a long while, and I've been edging for one for what seems like forever."

His knees bent and he crouched. I turned my glance upwards, trying to find the face of this man. What I got was a man with rough features, who wore black sunglasses and had a red mustache and red hair. He had no beard or goatee, just a mustache on his upper lip. The man spoke again, and I'll never forget his words.

"The name's Ironhorse, and boy, you're never gonna forget it."


	5. Issue 5

"Green"

Part 5 of 6

by Steave

"Come on boy, I ain't got all day."

The man that calls himself "Ironhorse" now stood up to his full height. Due to my current position on the ground, I could not see how tall he really was. He seemed very demanding as to what he wanted me to do. Personally, I didn't give a damn if he wanted a good fight or not, because I was going to give him one whether he wanted it or not.

With all of the pain coursing through me, I didn't even think it was possible to pick myself up, but yet, I don't think I'm ever going to doubt myself in anything ever again. I got myself off of the soft grass. I managed a glance and saw a nice sized puddle of blood where I was laying.

I stood up to this man, and I was as tall as he was, if not a little taller. A small smirk crawled on his face as he eyed me up and down.

"Well, it looks like the bear roughed you up pretty good huh boy. Now don't think I'm gonna go soft on ya because you got some scratches. I just want you to know though that, from what I heard, your mother, squealed and begged like a dog before she died."

A fire was lit inside of me, and that all too familiar rage that was in me was rekindled. Without any kind of hesitation, I threw my right fist straight into his well rounded nose. He didn't fall down, but he staggered backwards from the force of the blow. I think even he knew, that I pulled the punch a little.

After reorienting himself, he turned his head back towards me, a trickle of blood running from his nose into his red mustache. "Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this," he said as he pulled off of his shades, revealing steel blue colored eyes.

I already had known what his next move would be. He would strike out of anger, trying to show me just how strong he was. My prediction was correct. He threw his fist straight for my face, instinctively, I reacted and ducked. As I was ducking, I stepped into his body and threw a fist of my own straight into his stomach. This time, I didn't pull my punch.

He let out a grunt and spit flew from his mouth. My anger wouldn't allow me to stop there, it was time to strike him again. I stood up and quickly swung my left fist into his right cheek. This rage was giving me strength I didn't even know existed. I was trying to channel my anger, trying not to let it engulf me, but I was failing.

After I hit him with another left fist to his cheek, I lowered my shoulders and threw my right shoulder into his stomach. He fell to the ground with a grunt and a thud. Staying on the offensive, I threw my body onto his and threw left and right punches relentlessly.

I screamed with every punch I threw. I wasn't holding anything back, not now. Blood started to squirt from his temples. Finally, however, after many blows to his face, he caught my fists. A crazed look was in his blue eyes, and it was the look of death.

The anger flooded from me, and all that remained was fear. I froze up, and the thought of what he was going to do with me was racing through my mind. His face started to shake with anger, where as mine was frozen with fear.

He pushed me back, but still held onto my fists, allowing himself to hold on to me while getting up. "Now then, my turn you little punk." He let go of my fist and threw one of his own. I could feel my nose pop and crackle with the meeting of his fist. I did all that one of my age could, I screamed.

"How does it feel kid? True pain, you'll get used to it." He then fully released me, and both of my hands immediately cupped my nose as I screamed in agony and pain. "What's this," Ironhorse said pointing to the jean leggings around my stomach, "looks like ya hurt yourself there kid. Why don't we take a look." Ironhorse pulled away the leggings and threw a fast and hard jab to my gut.

I fell down to my hands and knees and tears came dripping from my eyes. The pain was too great, and finally, the feeling came back of blood creeping up from my stomach. I tried with all of my might to hold it down, but it was in vain, for the blood came out anyway.

Ironhorse then started to laugh, and walk away. What this could mean, I had no idea. The only thing my mind would focus on was the pain I was feeling. Why did this happen to me? More importantly, why was this man attacking me?

His footsteps then drew back to me, only he was dragging something. I managed a glance to see what he was carrying . . . a tree branch. He then grabbed the branch with both hands and cocked it back, ready for a swing. Then, two words entered my brain and exited through my mouth . . .

"Oh hell."

The branch cracked and splintered against my exposed skin. I screamed, even louder and in much more agony then before. Blood then emitted from my mouth, like I was puking after eating too much. When I had said before how it wouldn't stop, this time, it truly didn't. Blood flowed from my mouth down my exposed chest and stomach.

"You're tough kid, I'll give ya that. Kids your age would either be dead, or screaming for their mommy. But of course, the second option isn't really available to ya is it kid?" Ironhorse then smiled a gritty and bloody smile. All he was trying to do was anger me, let me lose control of myself, and make a mistake, like I had earlier. This was what he was counting on, but I wouldn't allow it to happen.

I rolled onto my back and held my stomach instinctively. There wasn't much else I could do but wait for him to make a mistake, and I had a feeling, that that wouldn't happen for a while.

He then strode towards me and bent on one knee. "I'm sure ya have questions for me kid, so, if ya can, would you like some answers before I kill you?" The cockiness in his voice was sickening.

"Why?"

He then pulled a rather long knife from a brown sheath on his belt. "Ya know kid, there are a lot of 'why' questions I can think of, but how about you narrow it down a little first, unless you want me to end this right here and now."

"Why are you doing this?" I had to force the words out of my mouth.

"Well, there are a lot of answers to that question, so lets start with this one. I'm doing this because it's my job. I'm a mercenary, I kill people for a living."

"Why?"

"I got nothing better to do."

"So, you're trying to tell me you kill people because you're bored?"

"Yeah kid, I am. When everything ya ever cared about has been taken from ya, ya start to realize that ya got nothing to lose. So, this was about the only job that popped into my head. I've always been good at killing people."

"Why is it your job to kill me?"

"Well, I guess I'll tell ya kid. The mayor of Star hired me to kill ya to help unite Star."

"What?"

"Well, it turns out the mayor wants to unite Star again so that it will be viewed as one of the world's greatest cities and get more business. Right now, with Star being separated and all, it's not exactly the ideal place to live. So in order for more people to come to Star and business to be good, he has to reunite Star. This means drastic measures, which means annihilating the homeless."

"How? What?"

"Ya know kid, you're really not good at this whole catchin' on thing. The mayor is letting one member of each homeless family go into East Star and get a new start on life. He's giving that homeless money and a guaranteed place to live. But, here's the catch to the whole thing. In exchange for all of those things, they have to give up their family."

I felt something click in my mind, the final piece of the puzzle was finally solved. But, I had to know for sure.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah kid, I'm here to finish the job those homeless started."

"Then, that means my father . . ."

"Yeah kid, you finally got it. The truth is, it was really your dad that murdered your mom."

The fire was rekindled within my already somewhat enraged spirit. What I was going to do next, I wasn't sure. This man, his eyes were too convincing for him to be lying. All of it made sense, but I didn't want it to. My questions were finally answered, but now I wished I would never had found out. Ironhorse spoke again.

"Your dad was the first to start this new movement. The mayor hired me to kill you because it was only fair that if all of the other homeless had to lose their entire families, that he should too. Your father then got second thoughts, but then the mayor reminded him of why he was there in the first place. Plus, for your father being the first to do this, he's going to make your dad a kind of assistant mayor of Star City."

My fingertips dug into my hands and blood dripped from them. The anger that raged inside of me was immense and uncontrollable. I was now shaking, hard and furiously. How could he do this to us after all he had said and promised? Then, another question rose to my head.

"Who was the man who delivered my mother to the homeless?"

"To be honest with ya kid, I don't know."

To me, that man was every bit as responsible for my mother's murder as my father. They would both pay, they would all pay. Justice would be served, and it would be served by my hand.

"So kid, I guess it's time to end it."

"No, not now. I'm not going to quit now. If you try to kill me now, it will be you who dies, not me."

I stared into his blue eyes with mine, and we stayed like that for what seemed like days. After a while, he could finally see the truth and sincerity within them. He knew that if he was to try and knife me, it would mean the end of his life.

"Alright kid, you're the only one I've ever let go, so you better feel pretty freakin' special."

Special couldn't describe how I felt. The hatred with had driven me only moments before had left me and I was left with amazement. Did he just say what I thought he had just said?

"Why?"

"I had a family once kid, a beautiful wife and twin daughters. They were all beautiful, but then they were taken from me, and when they were taken from me, I lost everything I had ever had. All of the feelings and emotions I had with them were also taken. There was nothing left in me, except hate. I used that hate to kill the ones responsible for killing my family.

"After killing them, I realized I was actually pretty good at it. I knew it wasn't right, but it was all I had. The killing never stopped, and vengeance just led me from one face to another. If you let vengeance consume you like it did me, it will kill you in the end too. I don't want that for you kid. No one else deserves to go what I've gone through, and I mean no one. I want to give you the chance no one ever gave me.

"There's a village not to far from here, I'm gonna take ya to it and get ya patched up. After that, there's a preacher I know, his name is Dezmaund. He can teach you things that I can't, and maybe he can help you."

"I'm sure he can do the same for you."

"He tried kid, it's too late for me. This is the life I'm cursed with because of my actions. Vengeance doesn't lead you to anything except more killin'. Now lets get outta here kid, you're bleedin' all over the place."

He gently lifted me off of the soft ground. Putting my arm around his neck, we walked towards my unknown destination. We past through the forest and saw some very beautiful trees and signs of nature. I never acknowledged any of these things, and neither did he, for my mind would then wander to possible futures.

I could see myself slaying my father with a knife, or my bow. All of these things that popped into my head suddenly would end in my father's death. But, like my mother said, I would always have the choice, and vengeance, as proven by Ironhorse, was not the answer to my problems. But, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen when I returned to Star and confronted my father and the others responsible for this treachery.

After walking quite a ways, we reached a very beautiful clearing. The grass was greener than in anyplace I had ever seen. And, sitting in the middle of this beauty, was some monstrous thing that looked like a green box sitting on two large black circles with holes in the center.

I recollected my father showing me a picture of something similar to this, only it was smaller. I couldn't help but point towards the thing and ask, "What is that?"

He managed a short cackly chuckle, "That would be my most prized possession in the world kid. Besides my guns of course."

Whether this was an attempt at humor or sincerity I wasn't quite sure. If it was at humor it failed miserably, I knew that much.

We came to the monstrous thing and he put his hand underneath a strange black bar and pulled towards us. The device opened towards us and inside were the comfiest chairs I had seen my entire life. He helped me climb into the vehicle, and I almost fell unconscious when I made contact with the chair. I just sank into the cushioned seat and could feel sleep overtake me.

The door like device closed and he walked around the vehicle and entered on his side. The drowsiness didn't leave, and I decided to give in, it had been a long time since I had a good sleep.

"Rest kid, you need it after the hell you've been through."

The last of his words faded into nothingness, and all was quiet.

". . . I will tell him for you Eddie."

"Thanks Dez, just make sure you take care of him."

"I will Eddie, now go to your boss."

I heard footsteps and then they vanished. My eyes were still closed, and I was a little worried what I would awake to. Would I like it? What if Ironhorse lied? What if he sent me to my death? I guessed there was really only one way to find out.

I opened my eyes.

There was a dark skinned man standing over me. His eyes were dark brown, and mysterious. His hair was a short cut black, and his features were strong, but old. He wore a dark black robe and had the symbol of a cross on it.

He then spoke in a low baritone, but soothing voice, "Welcome back son."

"Where am I."

"The Church of St. Patrick."

"And where is that?"

"It's about 10 miles south of Star City."

"How long was I out?

"You've been out for almost twenty-four hours."

I sat up and noticed the pain in my stomach was gone. I looked down and there was now tape there, along with some tight bandages. It was actually a lot more comfortable then in my jean leggings. Speaking of my jeans, I was now wearing an actually pair of jeans, not torn ones.

"I see you guys fixed me up pretty well."

"Yes, but be careful of your nose, we did some work on it while you were out, but it may still be fragile."

I put my hand on it and it didn't hurt like it would've. Then I pushed a little and a twinge of pain shot through my nose like a volt of electricity. I let out a small squeak from my pain.

"So, why am I here?"

"I believe Eddie already told you."

"He told me that you could help me with my anger."

"I tried to help him, but he was so far down the path of vengeance that there was no way to help him."

"What's the difference between justice and vengeance?"

"Vengeance is when you seek revenge on a person or thing for something they did to you. In the end, it's about you making yourself feel better. But after you have dealt revenge, it corrupts you, and devours your soul. All that is left of you is revenge and you continue to seek revenge for things that happened in the past, and then you start to make up excuses to seek vengeance and revenge until finally, you are revenge itself. This has happened to Eddie, or as you know him, Ironhorse.

"Justice is about harmony, and is doing what is deserved. Some people may think that sometimes justice and vengeance are the same thing, but they aren't. However, justice, sometimes isn't the answer. And just because it's doing what is deserved does not mean that it is doing what is right."

"How do you know whether it's what's right or not?"

"Your heart will tell you."

This all started to seem way too familiar. Then it hit me, my mother had come to me in the dream and had told me all of this before. Now that I had these things straight, there was only one thing left.

"Teach me, please."

"I will Ollie, I will."

"How do you know my name," I asked, puzzled.

"Eddie told me, he said he knew because your father had mentioned you many times before."

"What, exactly, will you teach me?"

"I will teach you everything. You are a very underprivileged child Ollie, I will teach you how to write, you obviously already know how to speak and read, and we will further in your knowledge on that. I will teach you about science, math, and all other areas of learning. But more importantly, I will teach you about life, and how to control your anger.

"You are going to need to have the means, and the skills, and methods if you are to confront those responsible for what happened to your mother. I will teach you to channel your anger and incorporate it into what you do."

"And, what is it exactly I'm going to do."

"You will do what is right Ollie. You will follow your heart, and become the greatest warrior of the heart that there is."

"How long will this training last?"

"Until you are ready to return to Star City. It could take weeks, months, or even years. It may even be ten years before you return to Star City."

"How will you know what my father will be doing in the meantime?"

"We too have methods and means Oliver, we will be watching every move that your father makes."

"But isn't that wrong?"

"We're just making sure you know where your father is and what he'll be doing when you return. In the end, it will be you who decides what is right and wrong. But, if you decide to continue in doing what is right for Star City, you must take on another persona."

"Persona?"

"Another identity or person. You can't run around Star City as Oliver Queen and expect to stay alive for much longer. They think you're dead, true Ollie, but if they discovered that you were alive, they would have you killed on the spot."

"So how do we accomplish this other identity?"

"You will have to act, sound, and look completely different from how you really look. This is something else I will teach you."

"How will I look different?"

"Have you ever heard of Robin Hood?"

"No, why?"

"He was a man who stole from the rich and gave the money back to the poor. He did what was right. He was also known for his excellence in archery, which Eddie told me you were quite the archer yourself. In honor of this, we have developed an outfit in which will bear some resemblance to the clothes that Robin Hood wore. There will be some modifications of course."

"And, when the people of Star know that I have returned, how will they not know that my original identity is Oliver Queen?"

"We will have to change your name."

"No, I will not change my name. I have had it since I was born, and it's one of the only things that remains of my mother, I refuse to change it."

"Then, this question, you will have to answer for yourself."

"Very well, when do we begin?"

"As soon as you have fully healed."

"And when will that be?"

"Not for a few months. When recuperating, rest is one of the most essential things that leads to better health. But in the meantime, we shall start with your other training. The only training you won't be able to start will be the physical part of the training. So, I shall leave you to rest since we are in your resting quarters. The outfit is in the closet over there."

He pointed to a tall black rectangular closet with a sliding door.

"We have made one so that you can get used to it and will have an idea for what it will feel and look like. When you get older and bigger, we will recreate it to fit your new size. I will now leave you in peace."

"Father Dezmaund?"

"Yes Ollie?"

"Thank you . . . for everything."

"You're welcome . . . for everything Ollie."

He left me alone in the room, and I got out of the bed. I walked towards the closet, my entire being full of curiosity. This was going to be the man I was destined to become, this other personality. Without too much hesitation, I slid open the closet door.

The outfit was on a hangar in the closet and I pulled it out, laying it on a nearby counter. Anxiously, I removed my clothes and started to put on the uniform. It was very comfortable, and I felt like I could be in it all day. It was all made, or what felt like, an olive green leather.

It was a pair of olive green gloves, and a tunic. The outfit also had light green leggings, which fit under the tunic. It too, was made of leather, and not tights. The sleeves of the tunic went slightly past the shoulders, but didn't go any further.

After putting these on, I looked inside the closet again, inside was a yellow belt, with a large golden G for the buckle. I wrapped it around my waist and continued to search. There was something missing to the outfit. Then, I finally found it.

Inside the closet was an olive green bandana. It fit over the entire top half of my head, reaching down to the tip of my nose. There were eye holes for me to see through, but inside were opaque colored lenses. On the forehead of the bandana was the same type of G that was on my belt, it too was golden. I wrapped the bandana on my face, and the opaque lenses almost made everything clearer than they had ever been before. But there was still something missing.

I then found a hat, the same color as my uniform, which bore a feather on it. I put that on my head too, but it still felt like something was missing. I continued to search and then I found what I was looking for. Propped in the back corner of the closet, in the shadows, was the all too familiar shape of my bow.

My gloved fingers welcomed the grooved carvings back into them and I gave the string a good "twang." Beside the bow was a brown leather rectangular bag, that held what looked like arrows. The feathers on them were a sort of lime green color, and I put the strap over my shoulder.

I walked towards a mirror and looked at myself. I looked and felt like a whole new person. This was to be my new identity. This would be the one who gave justice to the mayor of Star City. This would be the man who would confront my father.

I pulled out an arrow and drew it at the mirror, and then finally realized what the G's on my outfit would stand for. They would stand for green.

"I . . . am Green . . ." I looked at what was fitted into my bow and the name came as clear as rain. "Arrow. I am Green Arrow."


	6. Issue 6

"Green"

Part 6 of 6

by Steave

10 years later.

So much can change over ten years. Star City was no longer divided, and the streets were filled with life, lights, cars, and . . . green. Money had ruled in his absence, and as a victim of this, he knew it all too well. It was how he had come to this very moment in life, and it was a color that he represented. He declared, that he would be the new definition of green.

Ollie gripped his duffel bag and strode into the hotel. It was a Holiday Inn, not run by the nicest of people, nor did it have the best of service, but it would do for a night. He walked to the front counter and pressed the service bell. A small man, at least small compared to him, greeted him with a hearty hello.

"I need a room for the night."

"Of course, and what is your name?"

Ollie paused, unsure of his next answer. The one thing that he had not thought in those 10 short years with Father Dezmaund. It was all that remained of his mother, and he wasn't about to let her go. Oliver took out his wallet and dumped two hundred dollar bills on the counter.

"How about we forget the name, and you give me my room? Eh buddy?"

"Umm, I don't think I can do that."

Ollie could only smile and put down another hundred.

"Oh, on contraire, I believe you can my friend."

"Room 22 Mr. Robinson."

"Thank you."

Oliver took his card-key and walked up the stairs to the second floor. As he went down the hall to his room, he couldn't help but think of his father, his mother, and all that was left behind ten years ago. It was the tenth anniversary of that fateful night, and Ollie thought it was fitting that after tonight, everything would be set right again.

He slid the key through the slot and walked into his room, leaving the "DO NOT DISTURB" sign on the handle.

--

He had waited ten long years for this, and it didn't seem like it would never get here.

After the "incident," it had been a short-road to success, but a longer road to happiness. Thomas wasn't sure if he had fully forgiven himself for what happened ten years ago, on this very same night. And how very conveniant it was that on this fateful night, he would be throwing a party, as he had just opened Queen Industries that very same morning.

He marked tonight as the night he would finally move on. He would forget all that had happened ten years ago, it would just be like any other mistake from our pasts. We forget, and move on.

He was now the Mayor's assistant, and he was very happy with his position. He was the second wealthiest man in Star City, second only to Mayor Jefferson Blain. Together they had created a fully-restored and beautiful Star City. It was a golden age for all of the people, but especially for Blain and his assistant.

The Movement had ended three years ago, when the last of the homeless had been wiped out. Pete and Eddie handled the grunt work while Blain and Thomas handled everything else. Nothing remained of West Star, absolutely nothing. East flourished and eventually overran West, until the two merged, becoming a beautiful thriving metropolis.

And, speaking of Metropolis, Star City was even being considered as the "new and improved Metropolis." Apparently, the only thing the Star was missing was a superhuman darting around in a little red cape. Aside from that, Star City was almost . . . perfect.

Thomas loved every second of this, knowing that he was responsible for this. This new and improved Star City, and the Mayor was the reason behind all of this. If it wasn't for him he would be out of money. If it wasn't for him he wouldn't have a job. If it wasn't for him his family would . . .

Still be alive.

His thoughts drifted to his son, Oliver. He remembered Kami giving birth to him in the "Alley of Life." The long nights in West, the rat-sandwiches, the barrel-fires. Scar McGraw, Ollie's unbelieveable aim. All of it, and when thinking upon this, he could remember what true happiness was. Ollie . . .

Was dead.

He had to remember this. That was his life, and now he has a new one. Kami would have done the same thing if she had known about The Movement. She would've stabbed their family in the back if he hadn't done it first. But then he remembered, she had already done that. Those nights she never came back because she was too busy screwing every other homeless in West just for supplies.

He grew sick in his stomach and let the thoughts exit his mind. It was over, all of it. He was throwing a party tonight, and it would be the greatest in the history of Star City.

The doorbell rang, and he opened the white painted oaken door. The first guests arrived and placed presents on a nearby table.

--

Ten years, it had been a long time.

He stood in the very center of Greenland Park. This was where it all started, and where it all ended. His former life, and his new life. The images returned, but he did not fight them. He welcomed them, remembering for the last time, what had happened.

Ollie could hear his mother calling his name, the frenzied look of the homeless, their groping hands, his rampage and flurry with his bow. Being pulled to the river, while his mother was being pulled apart. He let the tears streak from his opaque-covered eyes down the mask which veiled the upper half of his head, and it fell to the grass below.

"I love you . . ."

He channeled the love, sadness, and anger he felt into something else. This something else he had grown to become, knowing that it was his fate, his destiny. It was time.

Ollie walked out of the park in his new garb, in his new self. His name, for the time being, wasn't Oliver Queen. But instead, Green Arrow. And his justice, was about to be had.

--

"Aahh, Thomas, it is great to see you my friend."

Blain gave Tom not only a firm handshake, but a hug as well. This was the first time this had happened, Blain even seemed surprised by his own actions.

Thomas had never seen so many people at one place in his entire life. Blain took no time in heading for the alcohol, and began conversing with the rest of Star's high-rollers. And for once, Tom felt out of place.

Blain stood on a chair and began to praise Thomas.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Star City's most elite of persons. Tonight, we celebrate Thomas Queen for starting Queen Industries."

There was a small break for applause and Blain continued.

"If you remember, Thomas was the man who started The Movement. In turn, he was the reason for three-fourths of you here today being as wealthy as you all are. Do not thank your Mayor Jefferson Blain, no, thank Thomas Queen, for he is surely an angel sent from Heaven. It is him who has gotten you here, not I."

For this, there was a great applause. When the commotion settled down, Blain spoke again.

"Let us all raise our glasses in honor of Thomas Queen, the man of the future. Perhaps, even, the future of Star City. And, dare I say it? The future MAYOR of Star City!"

The crowd burst into praise, screams, and clapping. Thomas blushed from all of the attention, and he felt much better. They drank and cheered at the same time. He couldn't be any happier, and life was perfect.

Was.

An explosion rocked the Queen mansion to the very foundations, and a hole was blasted in the nearby wall. There was screaming of various things:

"WHAT HAPPENED!"

"TERRORISTS!"

"WE'RE BEING KILLED!"

However, one voice rose above all of the others.

"IF YOU WISH TO LIVE, GET OUT OF HERE NOW!"

No one knew who said this, but no one in particular cared, and they all battled ot the front door and the hole. Blain was the first to get out, and finally all had left, leaving Thomas. He too began to ran, until something rammed into his shoulder and he flew backwards. In his shoulder, was sticking a green arrow. He looked up, only to see a figure, dressed in green, step ominously through the gigantic hole.

His appearance reminded him of Robin Hood, and he could only look in awe. Who was this man who now stood before him?

"Who are you?"

--

Ollie gazed upon this pathetic man who now lay in front of him. Blood pouring out of his shoulder, much like it had out of his own mouth ten years ago.

"I am your hell."

Ollie picked him up off of the ground, forcing him to stare into the opaque lenses that covered his eyes. He released a viscious right hand into his father's stomach, and then rammed his own head into Tom's. Ollie's hat flew off, but that didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.

He pinned him against a nearby wall and watched as he quivered and twitched. His father let out a cackle, then a gurgle, and finally blood rushed fluidly out of his mouth. Ollie wasn't sure whether to be disgusted, or satisfied.

"Who . . . a-are . . . you?"

"I told you already."

"W-whatever it was I did . . . I'm sorry for it."

Ollie punched him in the stomach again, and screamed into his face.

"TELL MY MOTHER THAT!"

Ollie let out a scream of rage and threw right after left into his father's face, leaving him a bloody mess. Ollie backed off, trying to cool himself off. He had waited ten years for this.

Thomas scrambled to his feet, leaning against the wall.

"Please . . . if you just let me know . . ."

"You should already. Ten years ago."

Thomas' mind began going crazy. He knew about ten years ago . . . but how? No one else knew . . .

"W-w-who are you?"

Ollie finally unveiled himself, and the shock in his father's face almost surprised himself.

"No . . . no . . . oh my god no."

"What father? AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!"

Ollie rushed at his father with all of his speed and threw himself into him. He could hear a couple of Thomas' ribs crack and pop as he released himself. Grabbing his hair, he yanked him upwards, making him stare into his own eyes.

"I've waited ten years to kill you."

The saddest look that Thomas' face could muster grew onto his face. The tears were merging with his blood, and Ollie knew they were real.

"I've waited ten years for you to do it."

Ollie was taken aback by this, and hunted for his next words.

"W-what?"

A woman ran into the room, and she was holding a small pistol. One of those kinds that all families have "just in case." She was beautiful and reminded Ollie of his mother. This woman raised the gun so that it was level to Ollie's head.

"Oh my god! Thomas!"

Thomas raised his hand and waved her off.

"It's alright . . . Kami."

Ollie felt like he had just been hit hard in the stomach.

"W-what did you just say?"

"Her name is Kami . . . she's my new wife."

Ollie couldn't contain himself any longer. He let loose another right into Thomas and pulled him close to him, so he could have cover from Kami's gun. She lifted it as he had predicted, but didn't pull the trigger.

"Honey, put the gun down."

They were both crying, and Ollie was again reminded of his mother. When she put down the gun, he threw him at her. Thomas didn't make the distance, falling just short of her. She rushed to him, cradling him in her arms.

Ollie was so confused, he didn't know what left to do. Kami looked at him with such sad eyes, he couldn't think of what to do.

"Who are you?"

Ollie walked towards the couple and reached down, lifting the gun.

"Your . . . hell."

He pulled the trigger, and Kami was now in a pool of blood on the floor. Thomas screamed and he was the one cradling now.

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?"

"SHUT UP!"

Ollie pulled the trigger again and the bullet ripped through Thomas' right arm.

"WHY DID YOU FATHER? WHY DID YOU DO IT? WAS THE MONEY GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU? AM I NOT THAT IMPORTANT? WHY?"

Thomas stood up, showing the strength that Ollie remembered, and was crying.

"Your mother was a slut Oliver. She slept with other men. She betrayed you before I did."

"No father, she betrayed you . . . not me."

Thomas was aghast.

"She did it to help us, she made a sacrifice for our family. You made a sacrifice for yourself."

"No, NO!"

"This was never about our family, never about mother, not about me, it was about the money. It was about you getting out of the life that the rest of us were in."

"Ollie . . ."

"Don't start that, 'I'm sorry' crap with me father. You took everything away from me, I'm just doing the same."

"And what is this . . . revenge?"

"No . . . it's justice."

Thomas was crying harder.

"I love you son . . . I always have."

"And trying to get me killed, killing mother is your way of showing this?"

"I screwed up son . . . forgive me."

"Why don't you tell God to do that, as soon as you meet him."

Ollie raised the gun to his father's head, and his father was so helpless and distraught that he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to do what he was about to.

"Son . . . I'm sorry."

"Father, I have one word for you . . . bang."

The bullet left the barrel and penetrated Thomas' skull. He fell to the floor, and Ollie dropped the gun. It was finished. He left the mansion.

--

Roy ran out to the front door, and began to cry. His mother was lying on the floor, dead. His father, next to her. As Roy could barely contain himself, there was a bandana, drenched in blood, gripped in his dead father's hands. The color, a former green, was now red. He tore it from his father's hands and cried into his father's blood-stained chest. Holding onto the bandana. Everthing around him and to him was now . . .

Red.

THE END


End file.
